


kiss your knuckles before you punch me

by minty (mintyyfresh)



Series: minty tries Febuwhump 2021 [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Cara | CaptainPuffy-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Cara | CaptainPuffy, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintyyfresh/pseuds/minty
Summary: Puffy visits Dream. (He doesn't want to see her.)Tommy visits Phil. (He couldn't care less.)Sometimes, family is hard.-----Or, the canon parent/child relationships make me cry.(Febuwhump Day 27: "I wish I had never given you a chance")
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: minty tries Febuwhump 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174757
Comments: 22
Kudos: 161





	kiss your knuckles before you punch me

**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't able to get this out in time for the end of february, i'm sorry! i hope you enjoy anyways, this is my final febuwhump for the year :)
> 
> title is from "twin size mattress" by the front bottoms. 
> 
> also, there IS mentioned alcohol in this story, so if that triggers you, please tread carefully! take care of yourself <3
> 
> enjoy!

Puffy was sweltering.

She stood on the little moving bridge, waves of heat hitting her like a sack of bricks. Drops of perspiration beaded her forehead, and she wiped them away with a shaky hand. Her teeth gritted, and she rubbed the sweat now slicking her hand on her pants, leaving a small damp stain by her pocket. Puffy clenched her fist, and hated the way that she could still see the glimmer of moisture dotting her skin.

Mostly, she hated that she couldn’t definitively say the sweat was only from the temperature.

Puffy’s hands dropped back to her sides, playing with the hem of her shirt. She took a breath. 

She was an adult.  _ She _ was the mother, here. 

She could handle this.

Lava crackled around her, snapping her out of her thoughts, and she swallowed, hard. It didn’t really matter what she told herself. Puffy didn’t like feeling this small.

She felt even smaller when the cell came into view. 

The room was cramped, jet black, with one chest, a clock on the wall, and some water that she assumed was for hygiene purposes. As she got closer, her hands went cold and clammy by her sides.

The gaunt man sitting lazily against the back wall of obsidian didn’t look at all like the son she used to know. His eyes were almost sunken into his pale face, dark bags circling them, making him appear far too young and eighty years old at the same time. Blanched limbs, dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit, were no longer tan and athletic; they had lost their healthy appearance. The freckles that once splashed across his face had disappeared. His hair was long, (and greasy, she noted with a wrinkled nose), like he hadn’t touched it in months. 

Puffy didn’t know who that was, but it certainly wasn’t her duckling. 

The bridge jolted to a halt and she stumbled onto the cold obsidian. A row of netherite blocked her path to her boy. As if on cue, it dropped to the floor, and the lava enveloped the room in molten heat once again, a stark contrast to the coolness of the cell’s interior.

The two were alone. 

Puffy shifted from foot to foot, before cautiously stepping towards her son. She crouched onto the balls of her feet to peer into the man’s eyes, which lacked any sort of their signature gleam. She felt tears welling up in her own, and she reached out to hold his head in her hand. He leaned into the touch in a way so slight, someone else wouldn’t have noticed it at all.

Puffy felt her heart crack.

“Oh, duckling,” she said softly, caressing Dream’s cheek with her thumb. “What happened to you?” 

—————————

Tommy was freezing. 

Frigid wind pierced through his thin, ragged clothing like knives. The cuffs on his pants, his wool socks, and his rusty iron boots were all wet with snow, and Tommy was pretty sure he could feel them turning to ice as he trudged along further. No matter how hard he gritted his teeth, he couldn’t stop them from chattering. 

The world seemed to be just an expanse of white, which made the bright little cabin in the distance stick out like a sore thumb. Tommy could see little dots of warm yellow light in the windows and a cheerful puff of smoke out the chimney, and his heart lifted. 

He was almost there. 

That couldn’t possibly compare to the utter joy that filled his chest when a small, green-clad figure came into focus on the house’s porch. He quickened his pace.

“Phil!” Tommy stumbled through the snow, hollering as loud as he could and waving his arms like a maniac. His voice was hoarse, but that didn’t diminish his excitement. “Phil! Over here!”

He picked up his speed, tripping over snow and his own feet. The wind was howling, but it couldn’t possibly scream louder than Tommy. His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t wipe the beaming smile off of his face if he tried. 

“Phil!” he shrieked. “Phil, I’m home!” Tommy almost wanted to cry. It had been a haunting few months, between exile, the fall of his country, Dream almost killing Tubbo before being locked in the prison...but he was about to see his father again. 

God, he was about to be home.

The only thing that hurt more than the biting wind was his face, bearing the weight of a grin wide enough to cross oceans.

He was so goddamn close. 

Phil was standing at the porch outside the door, staring off into the distance with his back to the boy. Tommy was yards away, then feet, then he was scampering up the stairs and barrelling into the man with a tackling hug. 

“What the fuck?” The force of Tommy’s embrace toppled the two to the ground and Phil pushed the boy off of him as if on instinct. Tommy tumbled off the man, hitting the ground and skidding back to the stone brick of the house’s walls. He panted in excitement, catching his breath, before laughing out loud.

“Phil! Phil, it’s me!” he whooped, throwing his hands out to the sky. “I missed you so much!”

The man’s response was far less warm. 

“What the fuck?” Phil repeated. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you here?”

Slowly but surely, Tommy's face started to fall.

“I—Dream’s in prison now, Phil! I can go wherever I want again. I wanted to visit,” he said, voice suddenly small. Why wasn’t Phil reacting?

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked weakly. 

The man didn’t answer.

—————————

The two sat with their backs to the cool wall, Puffy’s arm stretched to wrap around the shoulders of the much larger man. She cleared her throat.

“How have you been doing, honey?” she asked gently. Her thumb rubbed circles on his shoulder. 

Dream sighed. 

"I fucking hate it here," he muttered, voice gravelly with disuse. "I hate it here, Mom. I don't deserve this." Puffy's grip tightened for a moment. 

"Duckling..." Puffy hesitated. She was looking at her son, but in his blank stare, all she could see was the glassy eyes of the children he had hurt. 

She studied him for a moment. The man beside her didn’t look like a manipulator. He didn’t look like an abuser, a criminal, a monster. 

He just looked tired. Tired, and lonely, and malnourished. And it was hard, because she knew he had done all those things. But she couldn’t stop the tenderness creeping into her heart.

She loved him.

She didn’t know if he deserved that love. 

God, had she messed up her boy.

Puffy sighed, dispelling the debate in her mind, and leaned her head on her son's shoulder. 

Surprisingly, he jerked away. Clearly, she had taken too long to answer.

"What the hell, Mom?" he said, jaw tensing. "Why aren't you agreeing with me?" He paused for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “Do you think I deserve this?" 

Puffy looked down. She played with the hem of her shirt once again, before catching herself. She forced her eyes up to meet his. 

"Dream, I...you did a lot of bad stuff, kiddo," she said quietly. "And it's breaking me to see you like this, but you screwed up, duckling." Dream's mouth dropped. 

"You think I'm evil." His tone was incredulous. "You think I'm fucked up." 

“I didn’t say that,” Puffy protested. 

“No, but you meant it,” he replied with a dry laugh. "You think I'm a fucked up piece of shit, don't you?"

Puffy flinched. 

Dream didn't stop.

"You think I'm fucking evil, don't you, Mom?" he shouted, standing. "You think I deserve this torture, don't you?" 

“I never said that!” Puffy insisted. “Dream, I didn’t!”

“You know it’s true!” He was screaming now, eyes glassy and wet. “You hate me!”

His fist clenched. Puffy’s stomach dropped.

He swung.

For one terrifying second, she thought he would hit her.

But then the moment passed, and she saw the aftermath.

He had punched the dark obsidian above her head.

Blood dripped down the boy's pale fist. He breathed heavily, head down, refusing to look at her. Puffy scrunched her eyes closed, and got to her feet.

She pulled off her cloak and wrapped it around the boy’s hand tightly, applying gentle pressure to the blood dotting his knuckles.

Quietly: “Can you move your fingers?”

They flexed under the fabric. Dream nodded. 

With deft movements, she tied off the cloth and let the man’s hand drop to his side. 

“I don’t approve of the things you’ve done,” she whispered, words soft. “But you’re my kid. My duckling. And I love you. No matter what.”

Dream choked out a muted sob. Puffy wrapped warm arms around him. 

“How can you not be on my side?” he breathed, voice cracking. “How can my own mother be against me?” Puffy ignored the wetness welling up in her eyes. 

“You’ve done horrible things, duckling. They were wrong,” she murmured into his hair. “That doesn’t make you any less of my son.”   
  
“I knew I would lose some people through this,” Dream said hollowly. “I knew I would. I knew some wouldn’t be strong enough to see what I was doing. Why it was necessary.” He sucked in a breath. “I didn’t expect that to be you.”

“Dream…”

“No.” And then she was shaken off violently, to the point that she was sent reeling back towards the lava. She staggered back a few steps before regaining her balance. 

Heat radiated off her back. 

Dream turned. 

His eyes were dark. 

Puffy had never seen her boy look so angry.

One breath. Two. Then—

“I wish I had never given you a chance.”   
  
Puffy felt something in her shatter. 

“Sam?” The boy turned away. “Sam? I’d like you to take her away, please.”   
  
Sam’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Puffy? I’m taking away the lava. Please get on the bridge.”

Puffy opened her mouth, but nothing came out. 

“Goodbye, Puffy,” her son said, words low and empty. “Don’t come back.”

—————————

The two sat at the wooden kitchen table, Tommy’s hands wrapped around a warm mug of hot chocolate. The only sounds punctuating the uncomfortable silence were the taps of Tommy’s fingers drumming against the smooth spruce. His right leg bounced enough that the cocoa sloshed around in the cup, and he winced, forcing himself to be still. 

He cleared his throat. Phil looked up from across the table.

“Yes?” Phil said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I—thank you for the cocoa, Phil,” Tommy muttered. Phil hummed absently. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

Tommy looked down at the swirls in the wood peppering the tabletop, tracing them in his head. The back of his throat burned.

“What—what have you up to lately?” Tommy asked lamely. Phil sighed. 

“Tommy, mate, I’m a busy man. If you’re just here for small talk, you should probably keep moving.” Phil sloshed the liquid around in his glass, ice cubes clinking. He looked almost bored.

“I’m not here for small talk,” Tommy mumbled. He ignored the way the tips of his ears heated. Phil raised an eyebrow. 

“Speak up,” he said. Tommy grimaced.

“I’m not here for small talk,” he repeated, louder. 

“Pray tell.”

“I—” Tommy stumbled over his words, and his eyes stung. “I just wanted to see you.”

Phil took a sip of his drink. “Okay,” he said, poorly concealing a roll of his eyes. “You’ve seen me, then. Anything else?” Tommy bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I’ve been having a hard time recently,” Tommy said quietly. “I wanted to see you because I care about you.” Phil snickered. 

“Aw, baby Tommy needed comforting,” he cooed. “Wittle Tommy-Wommy needed big Phil to help him through a hard time.” Tommy’s cheeks burned. 

“Why are you being such an asshole?” 

Tommy regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Phil’s eyes darkened.

“Phil,” Tommy said hastily, “Phil, I—”

His sentence was interrupted by cold hands on his collar, and suddenly, he was being yanked across the table.

Face to face with Phil. 

“I’d watch your fucking mouth if I were you, mate,” he growled. Tommy’s eyes boggled. He scrambled backwards. 

Tommy knew the reek of Phil’s hot breath. 

“Are you fucking drunk?” he asked incredulously. Phil laughed a humorless laugh. 

“Gotta get through the day somehow, yeah?” Tommy felt his eyes prick with something, and he hurriedly wiped them away. 

His eyes darted to the clock on the wall.

“Phil, it’s eleven in the fucking morning!” Phil rolled his eyes for the second time that day.

“I’m an adult, Tommy. I can deal with my own shit,” he grunted. 

“Just ‘cause you’re an adult, doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you, asshole!” Tommy swallowed before adding, “Normally, people care about their family, you know.”

Shit. 

Clearly, he had said the wrong thing. 

Phil looked  _ mad _ .

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Tommy said nervously. His knee was bouncing again. He didn’t have the nerve to stop himself. 

Phil stood up.

“You think we’re fucking family? Mate, you abandoned me and Techno a long time ago. Family doesn’t do that,” he said. His hands were tight around his glass.

“I was just trying to protect my home, Dad,” Tommy said, voice small.

“Fuckin’ hell, I’m not your  _ dad _ , Tommy!” Phil shouted, slamming his cup onto the counter. The entire table shook, and drops of splashed alcohol dotted the tabletop. 

Tommy’s heart stopped.

“What do you mean?” Tommy snapped, voice raising. “What do you mean, you’re not my dad? You fucking  _ adopted _ me, Phil! You chose to be my father! You can’t just...just fucking go back on it!” Phil met his gaze with a glare. 

“I chose this, huh? Well, Tommy, there’s something I’d like you to know!” Phil’s fists were clenched at his sides, and his eyes were almost black. 

“Fucking tell me then!” Tommy screamed. “Tell me, you bitch!”

Phil’s teeth gritted. He slammed the table again, and Tommy recoiled. 

“I wish I had never given you a chance,” he bellowed. 

The breath left Tommy’s lungs, like he had just been punched in the gut. 

“What?” The words were brittle. 

“You heard me,” Phil snarled. “You heard every word I said, you little shit.”

“Fuck you, too, then. I never even cared about what you thought,” Tommy spat back, but the words were wobbly.

“Good,” Phil grunted. “We’re on the same page, then.” He grabbed the cup with a tight fist and knocked it back, swallowing the remainder of the drink in one gulp. Tommy flinched. 

“Now get out of my house.” He paused, sneering. “And don’t you ever fucking come back.”

“Don’t worry, old man,” Tommy said bitterly. “I was already leaving.” He turned and took heavy steps to the spruce door, slamming it behind him as loud as he could. 

He hoped the howling wind drowned out the sound of his sobs.

—————————

The streets of the Dream SMP were quiet that night.

Quiet, of course, except for Tommy. He didn’t know where to go.

Memories were everywhere. 

So when Tommy stumbled into Captain Puffy’s house, clothes ragged and tears staining his cheeks, Puffy felt her heart break. 

She didn’t know what to say. And judging by the boy’s silence, he didn’t either. 

She took the child into her arms, tears quietly dripping onto his hair. And she remembered what it felt like, to hold a kid close to her chest, and her heart ached. 

Tommy pushed his face into her shoulder and sobbed, snot smearing across her sleeve. And he remembered what it felt like, to be safe in a grown-up’s embrace, and he cried harder. 

They stayed that way for a long time, Puffy softly rocking the boy and threading her fingers through his hair, while Tommy gripped the back of her shirt as if scared it would disappear if he didn’t. 

The two were not okay. 

But maybe they were getting there. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading, it means the world!
> 
> if you enjoyed, please leave a comment. i read every single one, and they make my day! and if you want to say hi on twitter, i'm @mintyyfreshtwt and i'd love to talk to you more!
> 
> i hope you have a wonderful day/night! sending much love <3


End file.
